Content note: this article contains discussion of grief, sudden death, and abusive relationships.

Cerian Craske’s Electric Candles is a student-written drama, about an undergraduate (Valerie, played by Stephanie Jat) and the ghosts of her best-friend (Melanie, played by Sophie Stemmons) and ex-boyfriend (Dean, played by Artemas Nicoll Cowley), engaging in emotional conversations and accusatory arguments, about a tragic event in which the latter two died. As such, the play is inherently a difficult one to stage. The pared-down plot provides for a singular, bare, ideally claustrophobic setting, while also ensuring that there is very little action to distract from the conversations between characters, and placing the whole affair on the shoulders of just three actors. Unfortunately, this production wasn’t quite able to make it all work.

Craske’s script is engaging at times. Indeed, there are phrases and images which linger in the audience’s mind; for instance, the pathetic notion of a deathly downfall caused by “painted plyboard” is genuinely affecting, early on. Meanwhile clever plot devices, such as set-features changing depending on the truth or falsehood of a character’s statements, make the piece occasionally intriguing. However, ultimately there isn’t enough to it. As well as the exposition of Valerie’s history and relationships being clunky at times, and the tension which should be present between Melanie and Dean nearer the climax of the play falling flat, there seem to be little-to-no stakes to the affair. Though Valerie is trying to achieve closure after experiencing the traumatic effects of the deaths of her best-friend and ex-boyfriend, the audience never gets the impression that what Melanie and Dean are saying will really change Valerie’s life after their apparitions have left her room. The occasionally vibrant creativity in Craske’s writing is overshadowed by what feels at times like a motionless story.

The performances do little to aid this production. Jat’s role of Valerie is a demanding one, which requires her to spend parts of the production alone on stage, talking to herself, showing herself as emotionally broken, but defiant, without anyone to play off; it’s a role which requires vibrancy and drive of its actor. Unfortunately, Jat’s performance comes off as flat, especially given the trauma her character has experienced, and the revelations she is hearing from the spirits in her room. The static aspect of Jat’s performance becomes particularly plain when another character remarks that she looks “tired and scared,” and she simply doesn’t. Meanwhile, Nicoll Cowley gives a believable performance as the manipulative and overprotective ex-boyfriend Dean, while Stemmons brings an intensity to her role of Melanie which shines an awkward light on other aspects of the production.

“Seeing the ghosts move around the stage, leaving plenty of space between themselves and Valerie, reduces the tension on set.”

The direction of this piece also hinders its effectiveness. Though the Corpus Playroom tends to feel a little cramped for most productions, for the context of this one – set in a single room, during a séance – it almost feels too big. Perhaps some set-design beyond the beer can, group picture, bottle of Sainsbury’s Basics vodka and a couple of electric candles could have been used to make the space seem smaller. Seeing the ghosts move around the stage, leaving plenty of space between themselves and Valerie, reduces the tension on set. What’s more, for a play called Electric Candles, the stage is very well-lit; indeed, the choice to have these apparitions and their haunted friend basking in the light seems an odd one, especially when lower lighting could have elevated the tension and the mystery of the whole affair.

Though the generally brightly-lit stage seemed a counter-intuitive choice, the lighting and sound of this production was one of its stand-out features, to the credit of Director Craske, Lighting Designer Annabelle York and Sound Designer Em Jones. A single filament lightbulb flickering above the middle of the stage, combined with the house lights and sounds of wind and whispers created an atmosphere during the transitionary periods of the play (especially entrances and exits), which could have been mirrored more during other parts of the production to great effect. The first time the lights were used in connection with the apparitions was genuinely unexpected, pushing audience members forward in their seats with anticipation.

Regrettably, moments like that were infrequent, and so Electric Candles doesn’t reach the high bar which it sets itself. While it attempts to be an exploration of trauma, female friendship, manipulation, revelation and closure, the play ends up feeling static and bland. The bare-bones plot, combined with questionable performances and set design that alleviated some of the tension the script tried to create, came together to put the lights out for this production.